


Catching Swans

by orphan_account



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Blasphemy, Catholicism, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, hernst, melchritz, wendla/ilse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6008509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an anarchist group of witches called "Young Blood" rises up to try and overthrow heaven and hell, a reluctant guardian angel, his charge, and an overly dramatic demon must team up to stop the end of life as it is known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catching Swans

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me, I am tired.  
> Hmu on Tumblr: @eriksfavoritecape

Hanschen leaned against the chipped wooden doorway of St. Arden's Roman Catholic Church.

It was a quaint, old-fashioned, colonial-style building made completely out of wood. During the harsh winters in Upstate New York where St. Arden's stood, a volunteer would come up everyday to shovel snow off of the frangible roof.

Inside the church today, the pastor was giving a sermon on how religion ties into the upcoming presidential election. Patrons listened intently and Hanschen rolled his eyes. He'd actually met God, and petty American politics were the very least of His worries.

When the service ended, creaking wood sounds filled the room as people stood up from their pews. Time for Hanschen to get to work. He scooped up an armful of dirty snow from the grass and covered the church's front steps with it. The first few people out of the building slipped on the ice and definitely sustained some nasty bruises. On his way out of the parking lot (which was actually just a field if we're being perfectly honest), Hanschen pleasured himself by keying a few cars.

They say when you love your work, you'll never work a day.

Just before he was about to leave, Hanschen spotted a head of unkempt brown hair in the small crowd exiting the chapel, it was Moritz Stiefel and right next to him, invisible to everyone except Hanschen, was his guardian angel, Ernst. Hanschen shoved through the crowd, confusing a few people who seemed to have been shoved to the side by an unseeable force, and stood next to Ernst who was watching Mortiz with a fond expression. When he turned his head to see who had stood so close to him, Ernst's expression darkened. "Hello Hanschen, I didnt expect to see you here of all places." He said curtly.

"Really? I try never to miss Sunday mass." Hanschen said with a devilish grin. "Where's the rest of the God Squad today?"

Ernst was usually accompanied by other angels on church Sundays like this, but today he was alone.

"None of their charges could make it up the mountain for church because of the snow."

"Your charge made it."

Ernst straightened up proudly. "Yes he did. Moritz knows what's important."

Hanschen brushed some hair away from his forehead and breathed warm air into his hands, despite the fact that he lacked the ability to feel the cold anyway.

In physical appearance, Ernst wasn't much to look at. He was tall, taller than Hanschen anyway, and he had black hair and brown eyes. His skin was free from any imperfections and his teeth were blindingly white (a massive waste, to be honest, since angels rarely smile). Hanschen on the other hand was of average height with bright blue eyes and dark brown hair. His hair had been blonde once, so blonde it was almost white, but he lost that when he fell...

"So Ernst, how is Wendla doing?" Hanschen asked casually. Ernst shot him a piercing glare. "Why on Earth do you ask?"

"Just wondering, what with Martha and her father and all."

Ernst's eye twitched. "That's none of your business Hanschen. It's an angel's job to protect God's creations, it's your job to glue pennies to sidewalks and trip people as they walk by. You focus on your menial tasks and leave the bigger picture to us." Ernst didn't mean to be so rude, but his ambivalence towards Hanschen were starting to worry him and he just wanted the exchange to be over.

"Sorry I asked." Hanschen said, turning and walking away. He slowed his pace to give Ernst a chance to call his name and apologize, he never did.

\---

When the sun set over New York City, Melitta Zaubermädchen threw up the sash on her window and stuck her head out over the concrete jungle. Everything was perfect. People hailed cabs, cops arrested junkies, rats threw up in empty McDonald's bags, everything was as it should be in the big city.

The red-haired girl had come here for this atmosphere, the aura of barely controlled chaos, it empowered her... literally. Melitta was the only prophetic witch in current existence and recorded history, sure there were other witches and other prophets, but none possessed both gifts like she did.

Prophets foretold biblical events and were tapped into the energy wavelengths of Heaven, witches could use magic (mostly of the "black" variety) and manipulate nature. One half of Melitta's identity was inherently good and angelic, the other half carried a bad reputation. It didn't matter which side she tapped into though, because Melitta was neither "good" or "bad", she was on her own team.

She called her new movement "Young Blood", it was a mythological New World Order. Young Blood's objective was to put Heaven and Hell out of business and give the world ultimate free will. Sure there were people who tried to stop her, but they stood no chance against Melitta and her brethren.

It would be a hard battle to win, but she was up to the challenge.

But now there was another task at hand, Melitta shifted her attention to back to her work. "Conjuro te Hanschen offunduntur venerandum tuum verum nomen praeteritum labia mea et linguam meam. Uror ut in inferno vestrorum Evocatio obsecro te mihi... Haagenti!"

A puff of smoke erupted from a bronze bowl siting on the living floor. The bowl was filled with tansy, dried animal bones, war water, and cat's blood. The smoke curled and expanded into the shape of a person, a young man with intense blue eyes, dark brown hair, and a navy blue suit on.

"Hello Haagenti."

"I told you not to call me that witch, it's Hanschen."

"Your given name suits you much better." Melitta said curtly, standing up and reaching out to shake Hanschen's hand. As she lifted her arm, one of her sleeves rolled back to reveal the words Young Blood tattooed on her pale skin. Hanschen's audibly hissed at the sight and swatted her hand away. "I'm not shaking that hand." He growled.

"Suit yourself, but one day you'll need me and then you'll regret your condemnation of my cause."

"Why on Earth would I ever need you?" Hanschen spat.

"You'd be surprised by how little you actually know."


End file.
